Tonya Harding (L) and Nancy Kerrigan (R) at an event one month after the infamous attack on Kerrigan. (Getty)

The recent release of “I, Tonya,” a biopic chronicling the life and now-disgraced figure skating career of Tonya Harding, has drummed up discussion about Harding’s legacy – a legacy you’re likely familiar with.

Harding was at the center of one of the most infamous incidents in Olympic history. A month before the 1994 Winter Games in Norway, her main rival, Nancy Kerrigan, was attacked by a man who had been hired by Harding’s ex-husband and her bodyguard.

Harding’s role in and knowledge of the attack have long been subjects of controversy. She was banned for life by U.S. Figure Skating, which concluded Harding knew about the plot.

Weir took exception to the shout-out, and the general reception of the film, which he called the “glamorization of a villain.”

I am so over the glamorization of a villain simply because she was born on the “wrong side of the tracks.” While her upbringing may have been tragic, athletes come from all walks of life and succeed based on merit, not assault. I won’t applaud her and I stand for Nancy.